


Baby, Just Say Yes

by kikitheslayer



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7406944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikitheslayer/pseuds/kikitheslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of re-imagined fairy tales, ft. Jetra</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, Just Say Yes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not putting in an archive warning, but this chapter does include two kisses with the dubious consent inherent in Snow White.

Queen Magda had once been a beautiful, though vain, queen. She had ruled her kingdom with an iron fist and a red lipstick-ed smirk. When she was young, she commissioned a magic mirror, so that every morning she could rise and ask it, “Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

And in response she would see her own reflection, and the mirror would say to her, “In this land and all the rest, you, Queen Magda, are the best.”

Years passed, and Magda’s beauty faded away. This did not bother her, however. For she had a daughter who rivaled her young self in beauty, with golden tresses and emerald eyes. Magda cultivated her daughter’s beauty. It was, after all, her greatest strength, and someday it would bring her a wealthy husband to help her rule over the kingdom. 

In those days, the mirror would say, “In this land and all the rest, your daughter Petra is the best.”

But one day, it changed its tune. In response to the oft-repeated question, it conjured the image of a woman Magda recognized vaguely from the kitchens, and said in its echoing voice, “Though your daughter is truly fair, this is another’s cross to bear. In this land and all the next, Jane Villanueva is the best.”

“What?” whispered Magda, her voice poisonous. “What is it you are saying?”

But all the mirror could do was repeat it’s phrase.

\--

The queen, incensed, called for a huntsman to be brought to her throne room. “Chase the girl into the woods,” she ordered, “bring me her heart in a box.”

The huntsman could only agree.

But Princess Petra was in the room when the queen gave the order, and as soon as he slipped out to prepare his horse, she cornered him.

“Please,” she begged, “don’t kill her. Tell her to run, and bring my mother the heart of a deer. But don’t kill Jane.”

And the huntsman, who knew Jane to be a kind-hearted girl, nodded.

\--

A few days later, the huntsman returned. He knelt at Magda’s throne, presented her a stag’s heart, and was paid for his troubles.

But Petra was in that meeting, too. And perhaps it was the sight of that organ in that box, the blood staining the wood and soft velvet, or perhaps it was the thought that it could have easily happened to her, but it was a like an icy hand gripped Petra’s heart and squeezed, and she knew she couldn’t stay in the castle any longer.

That night, she packed her possessions, wrapped a scarf over her hair, and slipped out the castle gate. She took a horse, black like the night, and headed into the woods.

\--

She had ridden aimlessly for a few days when she found the cottage. At this point she was cold, and hungry, but mostly lonely, so she dismounted and gingerly knocked on the door.

“Hello?” came a voice from inside.

“Hello!” she called back. “Listen, I’m kind of alone out here, and I haven’t anywhere else to go. Can I come inside?” she pleaded.

There was a pause, then the voice said, “Come to the window.”

Petra waited at it, watched as the curtains were pulled back and the glass slid away to reveal a familiar face.

Petra started. “Jane!”

Jane’s eyes widened, although in fear or surprise Petra wasn’t sure. “Princess!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

Petra shook her head. “It’s… it’s just Petra. I’ve left the palace life behind.”

Jane’s face lit up. “Good! Your mother…” she made a face,“was kind of a crazy bitch.”

Petra shrugged. “Well… yes, that is pretty accurate.”

Jane looked down. “Sorry I can’t invite you in. My roommates were pretty clear about not letting anyone in.”

Petra smiled, then said, “Look, I should probably go--”

“No,” cried Jane, “stay. Please.”

So Petra stayed, right up until she could hear the dwarves’ footsteps approaching. Then, she galloped away and waited for the sun to set and rise again. 

Every morning she returned, and every morning she fell a little more in love.

\--

The witch lived in a cottage not far from Jane’s. She was an old, wizened woman who smelled of herbs and spoke in cliches. She was always dressed in a shapeless white robe, her jet black hair assembled in a bun on top of her head. 

She talked too fast and moved her hands too much, and her home was filled with things Petra didn’t want to consider too long, vats of boiling liquids and piles of things that looked liked bones. Pettra always shivered when they brushed .

“This is about a girl,” the woman said when she entered, dismissive, her accent heavy.

“How did you know?”

“People do not come to me lightly. Only matters of the heart. And I do not know much about boys.”

Petra swallowed. “Please,” she said, “I don’t need a love potion, but… something to make her know I feel.”

The witch shook her head, bouncing around the cottage, moving this, stirring that. “No one ever wants a love potion, but they never want to say how they feel, either. World would go smoother, people said how they feel. I say don’t beat around the bush, but then, I am old woman.”

“I didn’t come here to be judged,” said Petra, “I--”

“Relax, child, I will help you.” She walked to a cabinet in the corner of the room, covered in trinkets, and rummaged in a drawer. She pulled out a comb. “Bring this to girl,” she said. “She do not wear it, bring it back. A perfect gift, that is what you need.”

Petra nodded, taking the hairpiece, and thanked her profusely. “What do I owe you?”

The witch waved it away. “No money. Doing good is its own reward, no?”

Petra thanked her again and left.

\--

“You don’t like it.”

“I didn’t say that!” cried Jane. “It’s just… gaudy, you know? There are _jewels_. But it really is thoughtful, Petra, thank you.”

“Oh, I get it.” Petra crossed her arms.

“Get what?”

“So because I was a princess, I don’t understand what it’s like to be a commoner, is that it?”

“Seriously? Commoner? I served _your_ meals, Petra.”

Petra rolled her eyes and grabbed back the comb. “Forget it.”

\--

“No use crying over spilt milk,” the witch said upon her return. “Take her this bodice, see what she thinks.”

\--

“What’s wrong with this one?!”

“Petra…” Jane sighed, “it’s a _corset_. I live in the _woods_. Half the reason I’m out here is so I never have to wear a corset again.”

Petra looked at the ground. “Fine, I’ll just take it back,” she murmured, “even though I went to all the trouble of getting it in the first place…”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Don’t sulk. It was nice. But I like being with you. You don’t have to keep buying me fancy things.”

“Well, if you like being with me, what about your dwarf friends? What, are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not,” Jane said. “But your mom _did_ try and murder me…” 

“Are you saying I’m like my mother?”

\--

“Do not worry,” the witch said, “there is more than one way to skin a cat.” (Petra prayed she wasn’t speaking from experience.) “You take this apple. So juicy, so tasty, she fall in love instantly.”

\--

“So?” Petra asked, shifting on her feet. “Is it too red? Too round?”

“Petra, no,” Jane said, smiling, “It’s perfect, actually. I haven’t had an apple since I got here. Thank you.”

Petra sighed in relief. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Jane flashed her a smile, then carefully took a bite. Juice dribbled over her chin.

Before she had swallowed, her eyes turned glassy. She went pale.

“Jane?” asked Petra, stepping forward, blinking rapidly. “Are you--”

But as she spoke, Jane’s eyes slid closed, and she crumpled, the apple rolling out of her hand and across the floor.

Panic rose in Petra’s chest. She looked around frantically, beating on the door and screaming for someone, anyone to help.

\--

The dwarves rushed to her, seven men running as fast as their short legs would carry them, some still clutching mining tools. “Who are you?” cried the one in front. “What have you done to Jane?”

“I don’t know!” cried Petra through her sobs. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her! You have to believe me!”

The dwarves shoved past her into the cottage, crowding around Jane’s limp body. They caressed her face, stroked back her hair. Some of them were weeping.

“I love her,” said Petra. “Please…”

One of the dwarves set down Jane’s arm and slipped out the door. “What did you do?” he asked, his voice calm but cold.

Petra tried to stutter out an answer.

“If you weren’t trying to hurt her,” the dwarf said, “what were you trying to do?”

Petra voice was quiet. “A witch. I went to a witch. I… I wanted to make her love me.”

“Have you no sense?” the dwarf asked. “Why in the world would you think--”

“Because this is what I do, okay?” cried Petra. “I _ruin_ things!”

“Well, you’ve ruined enough here. I think it would be best for everyone if you left.”

Petra swallowed and turned, running, stumbling, through the woods as fast as she could.

\--

Magda ran a hand over Petra’s hair as she cried. “My dear,” she tutted, “I am sorry. This is what happens when you run away.”

“Yes, mother,” said Petra, burying her face in Magda’s lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, it is as they say. Mother knows best.”

Petra looked up, her vision blurred by tears. “What?”

“Mother knows best. It is a, what’s the word… an idiom.”

Petra scrambled up. “It was you,” she gasped. “You’re the witch. You did this to her.”

Magda sighed. “I did it for you, darling, don’t you see? Now, you are the loveliest.”

Petra stamped her foot on the throne room’s marble floor. “I don’t want to be the loveliest, mother! Tell me how to save Jane’s life.”

Magda shook her head. “There is only one way.” She screwed up her face in disdain. “True love’s kiss. And good luck finding that in this economy.”

“You’re a monster,” said Petra. She turned on her heel and walked out of the castle.

“You’ll be back!” Magda yelled after her. “There is nothing for you out there!”

\--

Petra commandeered a white steed, and she rode to the nearest kingdom like she was heading into battle, with her head high, with purpose.

\--

“Hi. Princess Petra.” She took Prince Rafael’s hand and shook it briskly. “We’re supposed to get married? Change of plans. Come with me.”

\--

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw her.

Jane was laid on a slab of stone, wildflowers gathered all around her. She was frozen, but she looked almost like she was sleeping, her lips still slightly parted in the smile she had worn as she fell. The smile Petra had caused.

Petra swallowed and pushed Rafael forward. “Go,” she said.

He dismounted and approached the sleeping Jane.

Petra stared at the ground.

A few moments later, she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to find Rafael. “It’s not working,” he said. To Petra, his voice sounded very far away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, shaking her head. “It was a long-shot anyway.”

She walked towards Jane slowly, biting her bottom lip. She shuddered at the sight of her, but softened, and whispered, “Goodbye, Jane.” She leaned down and just brushed a kiss across her mouth.

That done, she straightened quickly and turned, walking back to her horse.

She heard a yawn.

She froze, not wanting to even hope. She turned slowly. “Jane?”

Jane was sitting up, grinning at her. “Hey,” she said, “you should warn a girl first. I have _terrible_ morning breath.”

Petra laughed before realizing it, her first laugh in a long time. Soon, she was doubled over, and Jane was, too, and even Rafael had joined in.

And even as it faded, happiness still filled Petra. She felt lighter than air as she stepped forward and grabbed Jane’s hand, helping her to stand on the damp grass.

She asked, “Want to run away together?”

And I don’t know where they went. But soon, Jane climbed behind Petra on her stallion, wrapped her arms around her waist, and whispered, “Lead the way.”

And as they rode toward the horizon, over hills and across rivers, searching for everywhere and nowhere, they were sure of one thing: no matter the future, no matter the destination, happily ever after was right there, in the wind in their hair, Jane’s hand on Petra’s hip, their lips pressed together.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Love Story" by Taylor Swift.


End file.
